I’ve officially dubbed today “Typography Monday”. What does this mean? A couple things. For one, it means I named the theme of the day before Theo, and that’s a first. Second, it means that Theo is much zanier than I, but I outgeek him at a ratio of 3.7 to 1. So, yeah … typography.
It all started when Theo mentioned that I should get a printing press. Since I have a small apartment, I would have to keep it in the kitchen, which would mean no more eating. Ever. I countered with a cunning business plan, which I have named:
Font-Face Sandwiches. Open-Font Sandwiches?
Who knows, the point is, it’s totally brilliant. Just think, an “amper-sandwich” with cheddar, mustard and tomato. Ellepsis eats for the hunger that never … really … ends ….
Ampersandwich! Hahahahahah!!!
And not just sandwiches, either. How about:
Garamond Gazpacho
Lucida Lentils
Spaghetti Sans Serif
I could go on, and on, and on. Really, you’d be amazed and worried about just how ongoing I could go.
Hamburger Helvetica
Courier Croissants
Arial Angel Hair al Dente
Okay, that one is just dumb. But you get the picture. I’m taking a half day today. Think I’ll go have lunch … like an ampersandwich! The only food that practically asks you to add a side-dish!
10 comments ↓
How about some Tahoma Tempura? Or Vegetarian Verdana Vichyssoise? Ummm, vichyssoise.
Times New Ramen.
Monday, monday… Enjoy the half-day and your blogger burger and perhaps a glass of wingding wine… I’ll just sit under this office tree with a yellow post-it on my cheek.
don’t smoke, even if you’ve got ‘em.
cuddle if ya can.
and dance. dance at the Bitter End.
Times New Ramen. Brills Murray!
I have the awesomest friends ever. Those are all brilliant. Times New Ramen totally cracks my shit up.
Thanks for rocking my “face” off. ;)
I bet all that just emboldened you.
Oh my, Nick is channeling Jason. Scary!
Jason can really # those out. Me, I need some “space”.
But really, timing is “key”.
Insert.
Page up.
Page down.
Pause.
Backspace.
F.
U.
End.
Someone used ‘Times New Roman’ already. Blasphemer!
They have stolen the thunder of my Times Newdles Romanoff.
Alba-ndigas. It’s soupy!
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